Seasons of Ferne, Summer's Passion

Chapter 17

Fear was building within him. Not a fear for himself, but a fear for her. It was his curse, his blessing. Not since the days when Oberon still lived had Puck's bonds of loyalty been so strong. An unwavering commitment that far exceeded any thoughts of self and suffocated personal ambitions. Every choice, both past and present, had far reaching implications that would affect countless lives. But none of them mattered when he thought of her.

Hidden within the thick branches of his temporary sanctuary, Puck listened to every word spoken throughout the house, concentrated on every emotion. The older ones, those she called her parents, seemed to accepting on the outside, but hid a fear deep within that not even Evelyn could sense. Out of love for her they were willing to embrace the boy into their fold, but complete acceptance and trust would take time. They were no help.

As for Evelyn, whether she knew it or not, the seeds of true love were spreading like roots within her heart. Puck could sense the inevitable flower that would bloom from those very roots, knew its power would be as wild and untamable as the beasts that guarded the walls of the queen's keep. Somehow he had to kill that flower before it took hold, or at the very least prune it back long enough for Evelyn to make the journey home. But he would have to be very careful.

The blood oath Puck swore to Oberon was unbreakable and eternal, a complete love and absolute loyalty that bettered both their lives. Puck had thought, and even hoped, that Oberon's death would shatter the bonds of that oath. It didn't. The moment Evelyn was born the power of that sworn promise transferred to her, the instant he looked into her eyes his love for her was sealed.

And so Evelyn had power over him. With a single utterance Evelyn could order Puck away forever, forcing the queen's hand. She had already done it once, sending him away until she found a family. It wasn't until they had asked her to become one with them that Puck was able to re-enter her life, and even that was almost too late. Another few weeks and that flower may have been in full bloom, another few months and the queen would have forced his hand. Time was short, but Puck still had his chance.

He remained deep in thought, a silent sentinel within his perch until Evelyn's gentle breathing told him she was sleeping deeply. He would give her no dreams tonight, no dark images planted to influence future decisions. Tonight Puck would leave her safe and undisturbed, for he needed advice. The workings of the human heart were beyond his experience, and this world contained too little magic for proper workings.

The air singed with electricity as Puck transformed, crackling and snapping with raw power as flesh became feather. It was once painful, the feeling of being ripped apart by magic and reformed into another shape. An ancient and nearly extinct spell that was gifted by Oberon himself in the earliest days of Puck's service. But that pain was now nothing more than a distant memory, and in an instant scrawny arms became powerful wings that carried his changed form high into the air at unimaginable speeds.

No matter how many times he flew, it was always exhilarating. The height excited him, the wind whipping across his body felt cooler than even the deepest pools. But most of all he loved the speed. Magically enhanced, when Puck pushed himself he could travel like a brown blur against the vivid blue of the sky, his shape no more distinguishable than the body of a gnat zipping in and out of sight on a windy day. The speed kept him safe, kept him hidden, even in his own world.

On his previous to the basin Puck had flown high but slow, having been in no hurry to face the possibility of the queen's wrath for what she may have perceived as a slight against her will. Lately those perceived offenses have become more and more frequent as the power of the entrapment spell waned and paranoia increased. But tonight would be Puck's will, his choice to visit based on great need. So he pushed himself hard, passing across the distance in a matter of minutes instead of hours.